


Crystalline

by violentzsz



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28667466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violentzsz/pseuds/violentzsz
Summary: Elliott could’ve written several complete volumes of poetry just on Shane alone.
Relationships: Elliott/Shane (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Crystalline

The sun, gentle and bright as it always was in the Valley, trickled in through the window and woke Elliot up. Almost immediately, he shifted to wrap his arm lazily around the man in the bed next to him, who in turn wriggled and mumbled in his sleep.

Elliot could’ve written several complete volumes of poetry just on Shane alone. The thin covers they had on the bed for the summer months were pushed down around his waist, his hair ruffled with sleep. The sunlight played in his messy locks and covered him in a soft, warm glow, and Elliott was captivated as always, like he had been when they’d first met, when they’d had their first kiss, when they’d had their first time. 

He traced his fingers up the soft and warm expanses of Shane’s body, slightly damp from the heat, over his soft stomach, soft arms, soft thighs, everything so soft these days, even his words and his gaze. He’d stopped shying away from the scars littering his skin a long time ago. He learned to accept every part of Shane when he decided to love him, and that included the parts that came about when he wasn’t there to help him. 

The first time he’d ever seen Shane naked, he’d almost ruined it. Shane’s body wasn’t anything like he had expected; he had expected something hard and strong like his visage, but was met with a softness that made him seem vulnerable, too gentle. The curve of his stomach that came from too much beer, the slight slope of his hips, arms that hid how strong they truly were, and old scars that Elliott gave up on counting. He’d looked at them, at the neat pale lines warping the flesh of his arms and thighs, and asked, stupidly, “Where’d you get those?”

Shane froze, looking up at Elliott from the bed like a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar. Elliott had stopped unbuttoning his shirt and was ready to be kicked out of Shane’s bedroom like the asshole he was, when Shane just laughed. He didn’t answer, but he laughed, and they pretended it never happened until they finished. Lying in the bed together, Shane said, wrapped in Elliott’s arms, “I did it to myself.”

Elliott hid his face in Shane’s hair.

“I know.”

Elliott would never understand Shane’s relationship with his body, but God, looking at him in the morning sunlight, messy hair and naked skin, he didn’t know how anyone wouldn’t immediately compare him to the gods of Greece or Rome. Worthy of praise. Worthy of worship.

Shane stretched, pressing his bare back into Elliott’s chest. 

“You writing poems ‘bout me again, Shakespeare?” he murmured, looking over his shoulder to catch Elliott with that damning gaze.

Elliott smiled, a little out of breath, a little flustered, and dropped his face into his lover‘s shoulder.

“Not particularly surprised, are you?”

Shane rolled in his grip to face him, pulling him in for a kiss and wrapping his leg around his waist. Elliott grabbed his thigh and pulled him closer, wanting nothing more than to lay with his head on Shane’s soft stomach and thighs for the rest of the day, to kiss every inch of him until he was gasping and lightheaded and unable to think of himself as anything other than deserving of so much love and praise.

Shane moaned, tilting his head back and baring his pretty throat as Elliott reached between his thighs, and Elliott decided then that no poem could ever encapsulate the beauty of that sound, that sight.


End file.
